The Game
by Venere Veritas
Summary: The game is simple; capture or stop Corvo Attano from reaching Daud by any means necessary. The Whaler who accomplishes this will win their master's favor and be awarded with special training. Easy, right?


It started out simple enough."Capture or stop Corvo Attano from reaching me by any means necessary," Daud ordered. "Whoever achieves this will win my favor and be awarded with special training by me."

A Whaler or several would spot Corvo making his way into their territory. Some would grab their weapons and immediately go after him while others planned, some alone, others with groups. Daud's words rang clear in their minds: "By any means necessary." They loaded their crossbows, laced their darts with various toxins, and adjusted the harnesses holding their knives and ammunition.

It sounded simpler than what it actually was. The Royal Protector was no killer, but he was a master of his work, and many of the assassins who challenged him were left tending to injuries that took weeks to recover from, and Daud cared little for broken bones and excuses. Corvo's first visit resulted in the temporary loss of thirteen men and women. The second another dozen. By the third week, only the bravest dared to confront the Royal Protector.

* * *

Corvo walked across the raised platforms that lead to Daud's hideout. He announced his presence with a loud, noticeable stride. The heels of his boots clipping against the metal sheets alerted several nearby Whalers.

Finn, Dimitri and Marco were the first to ready their blades. They performed quick series of gestures to one another, planning how they would approach the Royal Protector this week. Dimitri, the largest of the three, traversed across the rooftops, prepared for a back attack, while Finn and Marco chased after the Protector from the sides. Corvo stopped running. He stood in the middle of a narrow pathway. As far as the three were concerned, he was at a huge disadvantage. Nearby Whalers traversed on top of vantage points to see the battle. Finn and Marco dove in, manifesting several feet above Corvo, their blades aimed for his shoulders. Corvo's mark glowed, and a huge blast of wind propelled them across the sky. A Whaler grabbed Finn by the end of his boot, but Marco wasn't so lucky. The blast of wind vanished, and he fell towards the water. Several Whalers winced as they heard his body hit the water with a loud _smack._

Leon, Dodger and Scott watched from a safe distance. The Royal Protector visited them last week, and all three made the mistake of facing him one-on-one. After being tossed into the air by his winds, controlled and nauseated by his possession, or made of fools of by his ability to sneak up and choke them out, it seemed safer and more advantageous to survey the battle scene and determine a weakness over time. After all, this wouldn't be the last time Corvo Attano bested any of them in a battle.

Dimitri jumped at Corvo, swinging his sword like a madman. Corvo stumbled back, but avoided falling off the pathway. He reached for his crossbow, but Dimitri went after him, grabbing Corvo by the collar and tossing him over the edge. A few Whalers moved forward, curious to see what Dimitri would do, others wanting to see what would happen to the Royal Protector. Everyone waited for a splash. When none arrived, Dimitri knelt down and checked the water for foam or ripples. Scott shook his head. Leon turned to Dodger, and there was a silent agreement to stay and watch the disaster unfold.

They saw Corvo's hand emerge on the other side of the raised platform. Dimitri didn't notice, and was still surveying the area. Surrounding Whalers speculated the Royal Protector's next move. A few guessed he'd bend time and sneak attack Dimitri, while others suggested a chokehold. All watched Corvo bring his arm up on the platform, then the other. Dodger noticed there was something in his hand. Corvo swung his arm and tossed the object as far as he could to the left. Whatever it was, it hit one of the crumbling infrastructures, causing a few bricks to fall out and topple over. Dimitri snapped his head upright in the direction of the sound, triggering everyone to groan under the masks. They watched their fellow assassin vanish and reappear nearby one of the rundown apartments. A few observed his search with amusement while others kept their eyes set on the Royal Protector, who swiftly got back on his feet, adjusted his hood, and made his way deeper into the district.

When news of Corvo's arrival hit, Christopher took to the streets, his blade laced with toxins. He hid behind a corner, peeking and looking down an empty boulevard for any sign of Corvo. He heard something, and leaned forward, skipping several feet across to the other side. He looked around and saw nothing, and was ready to use his transversal to find another spot, when he was suddenly grabbed. Arms wrapped around his neck. Christopher refused to let go of his weapon. He tried swinging; hoping the tip of his blade might reach Corvo. It didnt. The blade fell and hit the ground, the rattles and vibrations echoing across Rudshore. Corvo waited for Christopher's arms to fall to his side before placing him on the ground. He looked up and stared at the masked figures standing at the edges of the surrounding buildings. Several vanished, and Corvo pressed onward.

Steven and Thomas shared a stolen pocket watch. Both knew they didn't stand a chance against Corvo, but it never stopped them from trying to defeat him. Steven checked the time before jumping from his corner of the ledge, armed and filled with the intention of killing the man. Corvo vanished before he landed, reappearing behind him and hitting the back of his head with a blow to the elbow. As Steven fell to the ground, Thomas jumped down and tethered Corvo in place. He landed on his side, but maintained his hold. Steven crawled on all fours, grabbed his blade and slowly brought himself up on his legs.

Corvo struggled in place, but only turned himself around in the process. Now facing Thomas, his back was exposed, and Steven took it as the opportune moment to strike. He swung his sword, but as he did Corvo sent out another blast of air, the attacked aimed at Thomas. It pushed him against the wall, and broke his hold on Corvo. Steven backed away, giving Corvo the time to use his transversal and vanish from sight. Steven ran up to Thomas and pulled him up. The two stood back to back, Thomas loaded his crossbow, Steven taking knives from his pouch.

There is a subtle change in the air. Thomas turned his head slightly in the direction of what he thought was an odd sound, not unlike the crackle of rubble breaking from a decrepit building, but saw only leaves falling from a tree. He felt something roll across his chest, and then felt the air being pushed from his lungs, again. Steven coughed out a gasp, and both were suddenly pushed together, tightly bound with rope. Corvo appeared in front of them. Thomas kicked up a leg, and Steven hissed swears under his mask. In no hurry, Corvo took out his crossbow, applied a tranquilizing dart, and then aimed it at the two. Steven struggled for a knife. Corvo pulled the trigger. Thomas jumped, expecting to feel a quick jolt of pain, but was instead greeted with the entire weight of a man dragging him to his knees. He looked over his shoulder and saw Steven's head dip down, letting out a low groan before going completely limp. Thomas fell back, and the two Whalers landed roughly on the floor. As Thomas fought to free himself from Steven, Corvo knelt down and reached for the assassin's pouch. He pulled out Thomas' pocket watch and placed it right next to his covered head before once again vanishing from sight.

* * *

Daud stared through the window, watching someone carry the unconscious body of their comrade, and a few others following behind, waving their arms in exaggerated gestures. He looked away just as the doors to his chamber were opened, accompanied with apologies muffled through masks. Daud's walked to his desk, his eyes purposely lowered in order to avoid Corvo's.

"Corvo," he quietly greeted. Daud brought his hands down on his desk and looked down at a sheet tallying up the results of the Royal Protector's last four visits to his hideout.

"Good afternoon, Daud," Corvo said. He always sounded so polite, as though he hadn't just finished making a mockery of his men and the countless hours spent on preparing for his visits. "Did you check the time?"

Daud focused on the sound of the old grandfather clock ticking away. "I have," he answered. Daud turned himself around and faced Corvo, his face expressing the utmost humility. "I must admit I'm impressed."

"This week held little resistance," Corvo said. He sheathed his sword and walked over to Daud, fighting to main a composed smile. He stopped in front of the older man and raised his hand, red and worn from all the fighting, but not containing the smallest amount of blood. He let his hand trail over Daud's cheek. "Daud, I'm beginning to wonder if you actually want nothing to do with me."

"I'm beginning to wonder as well," Daud confessed, eyes lidding as the back of Corvo's hand began to move upward, brushing and undoing a few short strands of brown hair. He fought to keep them open, in case his men were watching; still determined to one day best the Royal Protector. Daud knew fewer men were fighting, and those that still partook in the game, while certainly improving, were getting beaten. It wouldn't be long until morale took a final dive, and Corvo wouldn't be greeted with opposition whenever he arrived in the Flooded District. "Where are you taking me this week?"

"There is a new café that boasts that they make the most authentic Serkonan espresso," Corvo answered, his smile widening as he continued to comb his fingers through Daud's hair. "I thought you and I could test its legitimacy? Of course, you can't go walking around with all those weapons on you, at least not the visible ones."

Daud pushed off from the desk, watching as Corvo followed his movements. He undid the belt around his coat, scowling a bit at the sound it made when he threw it on his desk. He repeated the same with the one across his chest, feeling oddly relieved when he saw one of his pouches open and spill out throwing knives. He yanked off his gloves and placed them on the table, one on top of the other. Cool and refreshing air poured over his heated knuckles. It calmed him down.

He slid out of his red coat, and Daud was aware that his movements were slow enough to earn a lingering stare from Corvo. He pretended not to notice and walked over to hang his coat, and then glanced over at the nearby window. He saw several of his men on rooftops, platforms and ruins, quietly witnessing another week of defeat. He saw that a few were without their masks, and Daud could barely make out the frustration in a few of the blurred, faraway expressions.

Daud lowered his stare, and he felt the tug of a smile at the ends of his mouth. "Better luck next time," he muttered.


End file.
